


Pole position

by minutemarch



Category: Rush (2013)
Genre: German swearwords, M/M, PWP, Power Struggle, Snork - Freeform, sexy sex, wink-wink nudge-nudge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 16:37:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minutemarch/pseuds/minutemarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With these two rivalry isn't confined to the racetrack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pole position

**Author's Note:**

> Translation note at the end.

Niki Lauda was sick of looking up at James Hunt.

From his standing height into the grin that hovered above him, taunting. He knew it was an imaginary edge but the few inches James had on him seemed like a natural victory before they even started. He’d never cared about his height until he’d gotten to know James bloody Hunt.

From the seat of his car as Hunt sauntered over, looking like he was on a Sunday stroll and not the starting grid of one of the most dangerous races in the world. He always looked like he had all day, everywhere but behind the wheel. Niki hated that he found it so hard to read Hunt’s methods, understand them, because they seemed to be damn near non-existent.

From the lower end of the podium, the most bitter view. While Hunt was still shaking his champagne bottle Lauda was already running over race in his head, trying to work out what he could have done differently to ensure their places were switched, what he could do differently next time.

In the bedroom where Hunt always started out the same way, lifting Niki off his feet and placing him where he wanted him, orchestrating an early advantage. Niki was sure it was the most calculating Hunt ever got.

~

James Hunt was sick of looking up at Niki Lauda.

From the couch when he was trying to recover from a night on the tiles, Niki’s disapproving gaze negated the need for words. When James wanted to really piss him off he called him ‘mum’ until he left.

From the lower end of the podium though he didn’t let it unsettle him, he used it for fuel, let it make him ever more hungry for the top spot and, hey, at least he got to see Niki smile but that he kept to himself. 

From the quiet comfort of a first class transit lounge, his long legs trailing into the room, pretending to read a magazine. Why did Niki always want to talk in those rare times when James wanted a few minutes to himself? James didn’t discourage him, never discouraged him. The man needed some social contact, even if it was just talking, even if he had to force himself to listen.

In the bedroom. Like on the track Niki never let him keep his advantage for long. They switched back and forth, second to first and back again. It was an even match, it was fast and rough and messy. It was the only place James ever saw Niki really let go but that didn’t mean it didn’t drive him nuts to see the smug grin looking down at him. He burned to wipe it off Niki’s face and replace it with something else.

 

But then there were the things they weren’t sick of.

To James the best thing about the bedroom was the side of Niki he got to see. Most people assumed on meeting them that Niki was the elder, and certainly older than his 27 years. He was so buttoned down, sensible, articulate, fusty. James with his goofy grin and floppy hair still seemed much more the kid but when he smiled, really smiled, years fell away from Niki’s face and the boy he must have been, reappeared.

James liked to make that smile come out with his fingers or the puff of his cheeks on the right spot or words that sounded more throw away than they were. The fact that Niki hated being ticked didn’t stop him, the giggles Niki tried so desperately to stifle was worth the kicking and swearing. James knew Niki had no idea why James did it, he didn’t know how intoxicating he was when he smiled, shy yet a little cheeky at the same time and Hunt didn’t want to let him in on the secret in case he became self-conscious and it went away. 

He liked it best when Niki’s smile turned wicked. It meant something unexpected was about to happen. Of course James wasn’t about to make it easy for him. Niki may have been smaller but he was strong enough to flip James handily onto his back, astride him before the Brit had even focused on the ceiling. Damn Lauda could move like a cat when he wanted to. 

He was wearing that grin now, looking proud of himself, tongue peeking out from between his teeth. He leaned in to kiss James hard, pinning his arms above his head, owning the taller man’s lips as he aimed to own him on the track. James gave him a minute, feeling the grin of triumph against his lips, before working a hand free to knot in Niki’s fine curls, his contemplations smothered. 

Another kiss but now James had a good grip and Niki was distracted. Their teeth clashed together as James shifted his weight and rolled them both. Niki growled in complaint, gripping James’ shoulders. Coming off a decisive win, and streets ahead of his competition for the championship, Niki was as cheerfully smug as he ever got, taunting Hunt with his grin and the look in his eyes but it wasn’t the smile at James wanted to see.

Monaco was the city of indulgence and James was going to show Niki what that really meant.

He hooked his hand over Niki’s leg and pushed it upwards, pressing the Austrian further into the mattress. Their fumbled removal of clothes had been incomplete and Niki was still wearing his t-shirt. To pull it over his rival’s head James would have had to allow him to sit up but screw that, he wasn’t giving up his advantage. 

He grabbed fistfulls of the soft fabric and ripped it apart, baring Niki’s chest. The Austrian swore enthusiastically, in German, horrified to see one of his belongings destroyed in front of him not because he was materialistic but because it was _his_ and James Hunt was well aware of that. 

To James, though, it was all going according to plan and he didn’t give Niki a moment to recover from his shock. He just tossed the shredded remains of his shirt over the side of the bed and pinned Niki down by his wrists and with his lips as Lauda had done to him. 

“You’re paying for that,” Niki growled into his mouth, wrapping his legs around James’ waist and nipping at his lip.  
“Should I go shopping now?” James teased, raising his eyebrow.  
“You’re busy,” Niki said a little too quickly, gripping him tighter with his legs. When he was worked up Niki was hardly any better at stopping than James.

James started rocking his hips, hard length finding the young Austrian just as eager. He caught Niki’s gasp in his mouth, then lifted his head to meet his eyes. He could feel Niki’s resolve to fight slipping as his tousled head slipped back, biting his own lip now. James kept up the gentle pressure, slowly bringing Niki Lauda undone. He loved to watch the changing expressions on his rival’s face, from determination to amusement to surprise to irritation to half-lidded pleasure to-

“Like this huh? This what you want?”  
“You know, you shit- yes! God- just-”  
“Just like this? Is that what you’re saying, Niki?”  
A groan, another string of words James couldn’t make out aside from the two words in English “Fucking tease.”

It only made James grin more. They were getting there but Niki was still far too articulate for his liking. He slid his hands up Niki’s arms to hold him closer to his shoulders for even better leverage. He grinned when Niki swore though he wasn’t sure if it was from frustration or pleasure. He’d take either.

“Get inside me you pointless fuck,” Niki commanded, most of the heat taken out of his words by the broken catch in his voice and his breathless, desperate, tone. With his full weight on Lauda, James figured it was safe to release one of his arms to run a large warm hand down Niki’s slight body, feeling the firm muscles under the fair skin, fingers brushing up the outside of Niki’s thigh calculated to make him groan. 

In bed Hunt became the scientist, the genius at setting up the perfect performance. He knew just the right time to take Niki in hand, to close his hand around him, to stroke downwards. He drank up Niki’s relieved sigh, watched in satisfaction as his rival’s eyelids rolled to half mast. James had him now. 

Niki’s complains were silenced, replaced by soft, lazy groans. He was back to being a cat but one that had found a sunbeam to stretch out in, languid and satisfied. 

James relaxed as Niki did, getting into the moment, purring encouragements and making promises as he took the lead, the finish line in sight. He let Niki rock into his hand but the pace was his to decide. 

Niki’s back was fully arched against the bed, a tumble of swearwords in two languages flooded from his open mouth. “Gottverdammt Hunt you Arschloch do… it… now.”

It wasn’t as easy for Hunt to hold back as he made it look but pride helped, losing Monaco helped a lot more. He’d take the victory he could get.  
“If you ask nicely,” Hunt promised in his best weedling tone.  
“Verpiss dich du hurensohn!” the Austrian spat.

“In English, love,” James said in his sweetest voice. “And don’t talk about my mother like that.” He enjoyed the look of surprise on Niki’s face the most.  
“Do it or I’ll go and… you won’t…” It was an idle threat and Niki let it trail off. “Scheisse.”

James leaned in to kiss his frustrated rival on his lips, on his sweating forehead, show him there were no hard feelings and if he was good it would be worth it. He just had to be good.

Niki was getting tired, it was almost time to give in to him. James’ hand gently opened Niki’s legs as his weight tilted forward to close the distance and that had been his mistake. Niki grabbed him with his free hand and pushed up and over rolling them both along the bed and over the side, onto the floor, James throwing his head foward to stop it thumping into the floor at the same time as the falling Austrian winded him. 

“Little bastard!” he laughed as Niki grinned down at him. He couldn’t help but laugh.  
“Too fucking slow,” Niki said in triumph and wriggled his hips back and forth on James’ cock.  
James threw his head back and laughed harder as Niki’s eyes lit up. Well, hey. He’d gotten his uptight friend exactly where he’d wanted him after all.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you were wondering about our Niki's little outburts;
> 
> Gottverdammt Hunt you Arschloch = "Goddammit Hunt you arsehole"  
> Scheisse = "Shit"  
> Verpiss dich du hurensohn! = "Fuck you you son of a whore." 
> 
> Charming, isn't he.


End file.
